Semua Bab Devil's Bidding: Bab 31 - Bab 40

Lucas stood by the edge of the bed, one hand buried deep in his pocket, the other curled loosely at his side. His thoughts were roaming, but his gaze was locked on her face, soft, delicate, peaceful in sleep.His Arabella.Even like this, with the faint traces of bruises on her skin and a haunted stillness in her expression, she was beautiful. So infuriatingly beautiful that every inch of his body responded. His jaw tensed, his cock stirred, and something darker curled inside his chest.It wasn't time yet.He wouldn’t take her now. He might’ve been a monster in more ways than one, but not in that sense. There was no thrill in forcing himself on a woman too broken to scream. No pleasure in conquering what no longer resisted.No, he wanted her awake. Alert. Aware of exactly what she was surrendering.He would make her want him. Beg for him. Need him. And when she finally gave in, it would not just be her body he’d take, but the last fragile shreds of dignity she clung to.A breath esca

Arabella I was being dolled up again.Now an everyday routine I was slowly adjusting to. Another morning of hands brushing over my skin, smoothing fabric over my frame and styling me, expert hands on my hair gently brushing out tangles as though I were some fragile porcelain thing. It was clear now, Lucas had shifted his game. Changed tactics. Entirely.Since that night be brought me out.Gone was the cold isolation, that place that still haunted my dreams and messed with my head. Now, I was being treated like a guest…No.A pet.An indulged, well-groomed pet. Waited on. Watched. Handled delicately, but never freely.And yet, it was better than the dark. That roomI sat before the mirror that morning as their hands fussed over me. Dresses I didn’t choose. Jewelry I never asked for.It was suffocating in its own way.Soft chains. Beautiful chains. My reflection stared back—calmer, maybe. Softer around the eyes. And my hair—too long now. It used to brush my shoulders. Practical. Ea

“Calm your racing heart,” Lucas murmured, his voice low, vibrating with a quiet command. He sounded at ease. Almost sleepy, she noticedmBut her heart was beating rapidly. “Sorry,” she snapped back, her body tense. “But I don’t have a switch that just goes on and off the way you’d like.”There was silence. Then a low, amused chuckle.Dark. Deep. Rich.It startled her.She turned toward him slowly in the dimness, her gaze locking with his. He was still shadowed, the moonlight barely brushing the hard lines of his face. She didn’t understand him.Not at all.He was cold. Cruel, then almost kind. And he seemed to enjoy making her anxious. “I hate suspense,” she whispered after a moment, her voice small, brittle. “I hate being made to wait.”She had been made to wait for him the whole day while he arrived late at night. He didn’t respond right away. She thought he might ignore her completely until she heard the quiet rustle of fabric as he shifted closer.“Why?” she pressed, quieter

“You seem to invade my mind… my thoughts,” he murmured, his gaze devouring her. “With just your body. Just the thought of it.”Her startled eyes flew to his, wide, innocent, devastating. His cock twitched in response, straining against the restraint of his control. How could something so delicate and innocent looking, be this dangerously seductive?Without warning, he hoisted her onto the edge of his desk, the movement fluid, dominant. He leaned in, his face a breath away, watching, and enjoying the flickers of emotion across her expression. Her lips parted, then closed, then parted again, her breath catching in the thickening air.His fingers reached for her, slow and deliberate, brushing against her bottom lip. She gasped softly, leaning forward, and that was all the invitation he needed. His arm slid around her waist, pulling her firmly onto his lap, locking her against him.Her body tensed at first, stiff, guarded. But slowly, almost reluctantly, she softened, sinking into the war

Arabella's leg planted firmly on the ground, then swung up and parted with precision, her movements deliberate and taunting. The lace bodysuit clung to her like a lover, molding to the perfect curve of her ass, leaving just enough to the imagination, yet gifting him with sinful glimpses.His jaw tensed when he caught sight of her firm, perked nipples peeking shamelessly through the delicate black lace.She knew.She knew she was sexy, powerful. And tonight, she danced like she owned the damn stage, like she owned him.She slid down the pole in a slow, fluid motion, a living, breathing temptation. When her hips began to grind in rhythmic circles, a soft moan escaped her lips, a sound so quiet yet so potent it shot straight through him.Then her eyes, dark, smoky, locked onto his. From across the room, that single glance tethered him, as if invisible strings had been knotted between them.She wasn’t just dancing anymore. She was watching him unravel.Her lips parted, slow and sinful, a